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AS PROMISED, TRAINING CAME WITH ITS PERKS—AND ITS CRUELTY... y/n was drenched in sweat, her temples pounding like war drums. The hoodie she had started with lay discarded on the gym floor, leaving her in a simple tank top and leggings, every inch of fabric clinging uncomfortably to her skin. Her breathing was shallow, ribs protesting against the relentless pressure. She felt every bruise, every scrape—a growing map of her determination—or perhaps her defeat.

Kim Da-eun paced in front of them, her sharp eyes dissecting each of the five students like a hawk sizing up prey. With Kreese gone, the dojo was under her sole command, and her iron rule had only grown heavier. Even the other students—boys who had seen the worst of her—seemed tenser than usual. The air buzzed with unspoken competition, an unrelenting pressure that dared anyone to falter.

"This week," Kim began, her voice sharp enough to cut through the din of exhaustion, "we'll be heading to Chiri-san." She paused, letting the name sink in. "The tallest mountain on the mainland. Every one of you—except her"—her gaze stabbed y/n—"has been there before, so you know what to expect... As for you, l/n, know that it will test your endurance, stamina, breathing, and inner peace under the harshest of circumstances."

Y/n's chest tightened at the smirk playing on Kim's lips.

"You'll carry heavy packs filled with water. Nothing else. By the time we descend the next day, the nights will be so cold the water might freeze. If it does, the loser of today's exercise carries two packs." Her cane slammed against the ground with a startling crack!

Y/n knew the jab was aimed squarely at her. Anxiety twisted in her gut, not just about the mountain, but the larger storm brewing at home. Her parents, back from their trip, would soon discover her secret. She had confessed this to her senseis, and Kim had promised to "handle" it—but that promise felt as cold and distant as Chiri-san's peaks.

Sensei's gaze bore into y/n again. "Determination prevails in my dojang. Let's see how much you've got."

She turned sharply, her cane pointing to y/n and Kwon. "Captains... Up!"

Y/n stood, legs trembling slightly from the day's drills. Beside her, Kwon rose effortlessly, his calm demeanor masking the storm she knew was brewing beneath, for she had noticed the fluctuations in his behavior the entire week. Right from skipping the weekend training, to his incomplete homework and bags under his eyes, though she spoke nothing of it, cutting him some slack.

Kim slammed another cane onto the small table between them. This one was wrapped in thorns, each barb gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Kwon," Kim growled, gesturing with a flick of her wrist. "Take it." Her gaze slid to y/n, cold and unyielding. "Stop him."

Y/n barely had time to process the command before Kim barked, "Sijag!"

Kwon moved immediately, grabbing the stick with ease, his lips curving into a cocky grin. "Too easy," he muttered, chuckling at her dazed reaction.

Smack! Kim's hand landed hot and fast on the back of the girl's head. "Focus," she snapped.

Y/n nodded stiffly, startled out of her stupor.

"Again!"

This time, she was ready—well, more ready. When Kwon reached for the stick again, she swatted his hand away, but his counter was swift and brutal: a spinning heel kick to her side. The impact nearly knocked her off balance, and before she could react, the cane was in his grasp again.

"Are you even trying?" he taunted, his voice low enough to escape Kim's ears but sharp enough to cut her pride.

Y/n felt Kim's piercing gaze, brimming with disappointment. She turned instinctively to face her sensei, who immediately caught the distraction.

"If you want me to deal with your parents, prove you deserve that tournament spot," Kim hissed, her tone like ice.

The boys exchanged curious glances, but none dared voice their confusion. Kwon just shrugged, his grin faltering slightly.

"Again!" Kim barked.

This time, y/n forced herself to push aside the hurricane of anxiety and planted her feet firmly on the mat. Kwon lunged, his movements calculated and deliberate, but she caught the faintest hesitation in his grab—he was telegraphing it. Her kick landed squarely against his chest, forcing him back. The cane wobbled in his hand, but he held on, smirking through the ache.

"You're getting there," he muttered.

But Kim wasn't satisfied. "No holding back!" she roared, striking at his ankle, though the boy barely flinched as if accustomed to the pain. "Or was Kreese right about your little distraction?" Her words, laced with venom, drew quiet chuckles from the boys who understood her Korean. y/n didn't need to know the exact words to feel the sting.

"Again. Harder."

Kwon came at her with more force, his strikes sharper, faster. The cane became a blur between them, his hands feinting high before diving low. The girl blocked one strike with her forearm, feeling the sting of barbs, and countered with a knee to his chest.

His grunt was soft, almost inaudible, but it wasn't enough to stop him. He kicked the cane into his hands, only for Y/N to stomp on his foot, driving her heel into the bridge. A sharp twist of her hips and she sent a powerful kick toward his face, connecting with a satisfying thwack.

"HARDER!" Kim snarled, her cane slamming against the foot she had used, making her yelp. 

The line between training and survival blurred. Kwon abandoned the stick, launching himself at her with a sudden burst of aggression. He feinted a punch before locking his arms around hers, twisting hard. Pain radiated up her wrists, but she fought through it, using her momentum to break free and send an elbow crashing into his ribs.

Their movements became a blur—kicks, punches, blocks, counters—all blurring into a chaotic symphony of violence. Sweat dripped into her eyes, stinging, but she didn't dare blink.

Kwon ducked under a high kick and went for the stick, but y/n was faster, and kicked it out of her hands. Unfazed, he was about to get it again, but that's when the girl jumped up, catching it mid-air, her fingers tightening around the thorny shaft, and swung it with all her strength. The cane struck his cheek with a sickening crack, leaving a bright red welt in its wake.

The fight didn't stop there. y/n tossed the stick aside and grabbed him by the shoulders, flipping him over and slamming him to the ground. She ended it with a savage kick to his gut, her breaths ragged, her vision tunneled.

Kwon lay still for a moment, shocked—not by the pain, but by the sheer ferocity in her eyes. It was as if she didn't recognize him anymore. He'd seen it only once so far... during that fight of hers with Jae-chul, which resulted in the boy being hospitalized for 2 days, blackmailed to keep his mouth shut by Sensei Kreese himself.

Kim Da-eun's smirk widened as she stepped forward, her heels echoing ominously. "Good," she said, circling her protégé like a predator. "You've shown me strength. Determination. The Way of the Fist. Nothing less."

But the girl barely heard her. As her breathing slowed and the adrenaline ebbed, the reality of her actions hit her like a blow to the chest. Kwon was still on the ground, his hand pressed against his reddened cheek—the very spot she'd struck. Guilt flooded her, her mind flashing back to another moment, another fight. She could see Eli's stunned expression as she hit him, square at the lips, her fists leaving more than mere bruises.

The memory twisted her stomach. Was she slipping back into her old ways?

Kim's voice faded further into the background as Kwon shot to his feet, his jaw tight. He grabbed his things without a word and stormed out, his shoulder slamming into y/n's.

"Kwon!" she called after him, her voice cracking with guilt.

He didn't stop.

"Dismissed."

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